Out of the comfort zone

My comfort zone is anywhere with a book.  The sofa, at the dining table, bed, in the car, in the kitchen (not to be recommended).  Anywhere.  But I do also like to play with pencils and paints and watercolour paper and glue and colour.  'Play' is the important word here.  Nothing serious that I can judge and find wanting.  Just playing.  

However, last week I signed up and paid for an online drawing and watercolour course.  By this morning I'd put it off for long enough, so I sent my husband out of the house to buy wood for his workshop shelves (clever psychology there), I locked our door so our friends would think no one was in, and I set up all the things I would need.  

Of course it wasn't as easy as that. It involved a lot of too-ing and fro-ing and procrastinating.  Well I had to prepare tonight's dinner in the slow cooker, which then led to a necessity to scrub all the surfaces and clean the sink.  But there came a moment when I couldn't put it off any longer

My first attempt ...

Maybe tomorrow won't feel so scary.